Young Roddy Kyle Watson текст песни, слова песни Kyle Watson Young Roddy

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Young Roddy - Kyle Watson

How much dollar
One dollar
I got you
I got you [?] please stay
One dollar

One dollar
One dollar

Goodsense
And I finally got my dream in my palm
And I can't let go
In a class by myself when I speak I hear those echoes
These wack ass rappers gassed on petro
I walk it like I talk it in my retros
In the backseat of my older cousin car they bumpin Esco
Or either bumpin' Jay shit
But now they bumpin' my shit
I'm tryin to get it poppin paper always been my topic
That money on my mind, it's in my bank and on my counter
Got weed all on my scale, it's in my joint and in my grinder
And like Michael Pfeifer off a clock cause I was clocking
So can a nigga ball, Kyle Watson
These thirsty ass broads tryin their best to count my pocket
But ain't no time for gossip, I'm too busy countin profit
It's funny how they hopped off and they hopped back on my dick
It's funny how another nigga bitch all in my mix
Funny how I used to wear my home boy kicks
Crazy how I come from piss poor to hood rich
Ah but cannot live I hope they let me
Walking out like Clyde Barrow or Joe Pesci
I never change, I remain the same as they lent me
Marley told me if I want it to go get it
Clearly this little nigga, big business
I'll and, for that money I started sinning, silly
Half a nigga, hope he forgive me
Said I'm hoping I ain't speaking low so he don't hear me main
Music saved my life it ain't no question
Riding like a one eight seven, me and my brethren
On a quest to get this cheddar
Maybe they do better if they knew better
But they don't give a fuck so my attitude whatever
Thinking level headed even when I'm on my level
We all on the hunt to get this treasure
Either you a buyer or a seller
A jet nigga stay fly in any weather
Ow
Goodsense

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